Nothing
by magnetosdaughter
Summary: Voldemort remembers his first encounters with Bellatrix after he returns from the Ministry with her. a departure for me, but i do love Bella


**Title**: Nothing

**Rating**: R

**Disclaimer**: i don't own anything.

**Author's Notes**: i have never attempted writing Voldemort's pov and never intended to but this story would NOT go away until i wrote it. so here it is, takes place just after the botched Ministry mission (OotP) with flashbacks to earlier moments in the relationship. feedback is muchly appreciated since this story is something of a departure for me!

xxx

He appeared in the darkened stairwell, Bellatrix in his arms. He took a moment to verify no one had been within the perimeter while he'd been gone. Scowling he swept up the stairs and into his bedroom, he dropped the woman onto the bed and threw himself into a chair. Potter_ again_. Disgusted, he had to acknowledge the evening had been a complete and utter failure. He'd lost a number of his strongest Death Eaters. The Ministry had irrefutable evidence of his return. The Brat was still alive. And the prophecy was lost forever. Anger threatened to overwhelm him; it was the most emotion he'd felt in a year's time.

Bellatrix stirred. Voldemort glanced in her direction, some part of him wondering why he'd bothered to save her. It was a decision born in expediency, he knew the others involved in this fool's errand were likely lost to the cause in one way or another. But Bella had always been a special case. Voldemort never had family or friends, had never felt or understood love, or even affection, devotion. But he knew how to use it.

xxx

She was young, barely of age; her eyes and hair dark as night; an aristocrat, haughty and smug. She appeared at dusk, draped in a cloak, it was as if the Dark Arts had created her for him. Smiling at this touch of whimsy he then thrust the thought as far from his mind as he could; Voldemort was not whimsical. The girl was unaware he'd detected her arrival, he watched as she got her bearings and approached the house. He was impressed; he sensed no fear in her, only anticipation, purpose, and something else he couldn't quite read...something buried so deeply she was probably unaware of it herself. He watched her arrive at the door, watched her press the knocker, watched a moment more before he moved to greet her. She was strong, she would be a welcome addition to his plans.

xxx

She was silent again, whatever Dumbledore and the Potter Brat had done to them she seemed to have been hit harder than he. The battle was fresh in his mind but it made little sense nonetheless. Dumbledore was always spouting nonsense and Potter was an enigma. He remembered again the loss of the Prophecy - the key to understanding Potter's power - and smashed the glass he'd been drinking from. He stared at the broken pieces on the floor.

xxx

"I'm sorry, Master!" She fell to the ground in a deep bow, kneeling onto the pieces of the glass she'd broken with her misplaced curse. Her devotion to him amused him, in so few weeks he had become nearly the most important person in her life. His gift of flattery continued to serve him.

"You remain unfocused. A schoolchild could break your defenses." He understood her, knew when to flatter and when to chide. She was his toy but he'd never had such a pretty one, nor so powerful. She could be a brilliant dark wizard if only she learned restraint. Her passion was her greatest gift and her greatest curse in one.

xxx

Voldemort kicked the pieces of glass away. He'd have her clean it up when she awoke. She owed him that, that and more after the disaster at the Ministry. He wondered who to blame for it, unfortunately everyone he could force reparations on had been rounded up. Everyone except the woman on the bed and she'd make her own reparations without his asking as she always had. He'd have to take it to the families. He mentally went through the list of Death Eaters involved in the Ministry debacle and settled on the most obvious choice - and as an added bonus it was the one choice most likely to hurt her in the process. Voldemort allowed himself a small smile. All was not lost.

xxx

"You don't love him." It was not a question, the girl was an open book to him. She hesitated before answering, he enjoyed her momentary discomfort, clearly she couldn't decide what answer he wanted to hear.

"No." She answered finally. He smiled at her, his most winning smile. It would terrify most but she was different, it invigorated her.

"Pity. You will marry him. He doesn't have your ability but nonetheless he will be an asset. And I understand he has a brother?" She nodded. "Good. You will approach them both." She nodded again, but there was something she was not saying. She looked away when he continued to watch her, odd, she usually met his gaze, one of the few unafraid to look him in the eye. "Bella." She raised her eyes, her expression unreadable. "What is it?"

"I...I will do as you wish, of course. Immediately." He looked into her this time, she didn't fight it, never had, though this once she seemed tentative. He feared this change in her, she mustn't be allowed to fall into girlish patterns, he needed her as she was. He found her thoughts resting on her sisters...her sisters in love...something stirred...that unknown emotion he'd felt in her the night she first came to him...the unreadable emotion she'd hidden even from herself. He realized she was envious of her sisters, both the blood-traitor and the young one, they were in love. Disgusted Voldemort threw her away from him. Bellatrix flung herself at him in desperation.

"Master, please! I will do everything you ask, I will bring them all to you!" He stopped, looked down at her. Pathetic after all. Her eyes were wild, she entreated him, "Please...please, Master...forgive my weakness." He continued to stare down at her and this time she wouldn't look away, he saw everything he needed to know in that moment. He pulled her arms off him, his grasp hard and cruel. She opened her mouth to speak but he stopped her with one quick movement. She was in his arms. He pinned one arm to her back, the other trapped between their chests, his second hand behind her head, grasping her hair. The kiss was angry, violent, passionate but unkind. He pressed her up against the wall, drained her of her strength, her will, her need. He held her to him until she was empty and then he flung her away like a ragdoll.

He stood over her, waiting for her to stand. She was pale, her lip was bleeding and her wrist appeared to be broken, bruises were already darkening. But she stood far sooner than he expected and far straighter. She stood and then waited for him to speak. Very good, Bella.

"You mean nothing to me. You understand." His voice was as charming as ever. He was sweating from his exertion. She nodded. "Say it."

"I understand." Her voice was hollow, he'd bruised her throat. He looked into her eyes. They were shining. Without thought he reached a hand to her and stroked her cheek. He let it drop and turned away without another word. No words were necessary, he knew.

She belonged to him.

xxx

Voldemort glanced one last time at Bellatrix sleeping in his bed. He was tired and had much to plot after this setback, he wondered if he should move her. She was so still. He would have to punish her for her part in this but not tonight. His thoughts had left him feeling generous. He stroked her cheek as he had many times before. He turned and walked away, there were many rooms in his castle, many beds, and he would let her stay in his.

Bella had always been a special case.

**Fin**.

x Comments are Love x


End file.
